


Oh, Officer

by lucdarling



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Harrington, Flirting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25401211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: Jim sighs as he flicks on his red and blue lights to signal the car to pull onto the road's shoulder. He squints and sighs a second time, louder when he realizes he’s pulled over the only BMW in town.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92





	Oh, Officer

**Author's Note:**

> This is just smut, y'all. With long-suffering Jim and bratty King Steve since I noticed the tag was looking a little small. I could have done the timelines to figure out his age, but instead I decided not to specify so it's up to the reader and tagged it 'underage' just in case. Enjoy!

Jim sighs as he flicks on his red and blue lights. He keeps the siren off, hardly uses it in the first place. The whole damn town knows his Blazer even if he’s not wearing the chief hat or badge.

He waits for the sedan in front of him to slow to a stop on the shoulder and pulls up behind it. Jim squints and sighs a second time, louder when he realizes he’s pulled over the only BMW in town. He gets out of the car slowly, feeling his years as the cool breeze brushes past him.

The pop music is still blaring from the goddamn car. It only gets louder as Jim walks closer. At least there’s no chance of getting hit by a passing car - they’re the only ones out here.

He taps on the roof of the car as he walks up. “Turn it off,” Jim orders gruffly. The boy does, and it’s the only thing that goes as planned.

“Was I speeding, officer?” The teenager cackles, almost as loud as the music was like he’s making up for the sudden silence. “Hopper, right? I think I’ve seen you at some of the parties, you’re such a buzzkill man did you know that? Buzz. Kill.” The kid frowns exaggeratedly and Jim wonders why he thought moving back home would be an easier job than being a big city cop.

Jim isn’t as amused and shakes his head. “Yep, I’m so good at the partying they just roll out the welcome mat.” He rolls his eyes, this kid has no reason to believe Jim Hopper was the keg king back in his day and it feels too much like trying to reclaim the high school glory days if he said it now. Besides, he’s got nothing to prove to this little upstart speeding around in his daddy’s rich car. “Now if you have a good reason for pulling nearly 80 on a road zoned for 35, I’d love to hear it. Otherwise you’re getting a ticket.”

“Blow me,” The kid smirks, cracking his gum with a loud snap. Brown hair probably styled to the heavens an hour ago now droops over his forehead.

“Usually the offer goes the other way,” Hopper retorts before he can stop himself. He drags a hand down his face as the words register in his brain. It’s too goddamn early for this. Both of them should be asleep, not speeding down the road that leads out of Hawkins.

“We can do that too,” he agrees easily. “You gonna move so I can open my door and get out? It’s hard to suck dick through a window.”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” Jim warns. The boy grins up at him, his smile bright and wide like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Jim is well-versed in that sort of smile after years of cutting class with Joyce and it’s not going to fool him.

“The way I see it, and the way it’s worked for years around here, is that you remain a fine upstanding police officer-”

“-Chief of police.” Jim automatically corrects. He’s put in too many years to ignore the title granted to him now.

The kid shakes his head. “Chief, my mistake. Well _Chief_ , you write a ticket if it makes you feel better but know that I’m not gonna pay it. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He even looks to his right and left before continuing, like there’s anyone else coming around the corner at nearly two in the morning. “I don’t have that much money. It’s all my daddy’s money. So if you write a ticket, you’re really just creating more of a headache for yourself. Or your officers, I bet. But you seem like a guy who likes a personal touch. I’m sure we could work something out.”

He ends the statement with a wink and Jim sighs loudly, taking a step back from the Beemer.

“Get out of the car, Harrington.” Yes, Jim knows exactly who this mouthy punk is. Running his mouth and the town by his freshman year no doubt when Jim was still settling into the sleepy Hawkins lifestyle and studiously not thinking about the empty cabin he now called home. He’s better now, maybe.

Jim’s been back in Hawkins for years now but the only interaction he’s had with The Hair - how Jim hates that he knows the stupid nickname given to a kid with more money than sense - has been when Jim is called over a noise ordinance and tasked with shutting the near weekly partying down.

Normally, it would be a job for the grunt officers but the last time Callahan & Powell went over to Loch Nora, they both ended up sick from jungle juice and one of them lost his hat.

Steve gets out of the car, all long legs and skinny torso. Jim wonders if the high school finally started that swim team they always talked about when he was a student, as the kid looks like he’d fit right in.

“Like what you see?” Steve does an approximation of a pirouette on the shoulder of the road.

“Are you driving drunk?” Jim demands, even though Steve didn’t even stumble on the landing.

“No!” Steve says, wounded dark eyes staring up at Jim. “Well,” he raises a hand and spreads his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “Maybe a little. Not enough to impair me. Just enough to make life interesting.”

Jim takes a hold of the kid’s arm as he wanders closer, gets a grip on a wrist with more muscle than he expected before Steve’s hand can make contact with his chest.

“Interesting, yeah it’s real interesting when your fancy car is wrapped around a tree and you’re breathing through a tube.” Jim scowls and shoves the kid toward his Blazer. “Don’t be a statistic even if the drinking age is 18.” He’s heard rumors from some state troopers in Indy that Congress is thinking about raising the drinking age, figures it’ll be a year or two before it actually passes.

“All you had to do was ask,” Steve huffs, pouts a little as he shuffles closer to the truck.

“Ask what?” Jim says warily. The kid is a little drunk and it’s trending towards obnoxious rather than humorous now. Jim hasn’t had to deal with this much flirtation since police training when they had to ‘deal with’ this exact scenario of being propositioned in lieu of writing a ticket.

“If you want me to blow you,” the kid says, blinking. The red and blue lights highlight his jaw line. Jim reaches into his Blazer to turn them off and turns back around to find Steve arched against the hood, pants around his knees.

“Or you could fuck me,” Steve says, breathless as his hand wraps around his cock. It’s half hard in his fist and Steve strokes himself slowly as Jim stares wordlessly. “As long as you don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

Jim swears again as his own cock stiffens like he’s a teenager and not a grown man. It’s nearing two am and Jim is a weak man. He’s tired of his own hand and Steve has to be close to the age of consent, right?

Jim carefully doesn’t ask but crosses the distance between himself and Steve in a few strides. He doesn’t need to tell the kid to turn around, Steve does it for him. He braces one hand on the engine-warm metal and uses the other to hold his ass open. The kid wasn’t lying, Jim realizes as he sees someone else’s spunk dripping out of his hole. It looks tender, used, freshly fucked.

Jim unbuckles his belt and unzips, pulls his cock out. The sound of the metal clinking sends a shiver down Steve’s spine, he can see the minute shudder.

“Condom?” Jim asks gruffly.

“Yeah, hang on,” Steve says and reaches down to dig in his pants pocket. He rips it open and rolls it on Jim with a steady hand before flipping back to lying on the Blazer’s hood.

Jim pushes one, then two fingers in. Steve is still wet and warm, sucking him in greedily. He’ll be fine with something bigger.

“You like that?” he says, pulling them back and lining up his cock. “You want something more? Something bigger that might shut that smart mouth of yours?”

Steve rolls his hips, grinding against Jim. The head pops in and Jim makes some kind of sound that nearly matches Steve’s high-pitched noise.

“You uh, need a minute?” Jim checks. “You’re pretty tight.” It feels great.

“No,” Steve pants and pushes back, taking Jim’s cock further. He moves in little wiggling motions that manage to make Jim harder than before. Jim lets Steve impale himself, he has no complaints even as it’s clear who’s really in charge here. He bottoms out and his hand comes to rest on Steve’s hips, stilling his movements.

Jim doesn’t ask before starting up a fast rhythm, balls slapping against Steve’s thigh with each thrust. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own orgasm in the tightness of Steve’s body and the little sounds he draws from his mouth.

“This like what you imagined? You go to sleep thinking about who can fuck you this good?”

Steve’s mouth opens in response, wanton and desperate sounds falling from him like he can’t keep them in. His own hand tries to disappear underneath him but Jim draws it back. He gets both of Steve’s wrists behind him and holds him down, chest pressing into the hood.

“You get off before with the other guy? Maybe you waited, sped down this road just waiting to be put in your place. Yeah,” Jim chuckles, punctuating his words with a slow grind that makes Steve wail as that special spot inside him is touched. “I think you wanted someone to remind you of your place, your little boy cock hard and weeping but you don’t touch it without permission.”

He reaches around to give Steve what he’s so desperate for, circles his cock with a fist. Jim takes a few false starts, it’s been years since he had to do a reach-around like this but he figures out how to jack him off while still keeping up a steady pace.

It doesn’t take much more than that, the kid already leaking as soon as Jim’s hand brushes over him. He comes with a shout and his hole around Jim’s dick is a vice grip as he shakes.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’re doing so good, kid.” Jim soothes him with one hand stroking down his back, easy sweeps of his palm that ruck up his shirt and put more skin on display.

Jim pulls out slowly, hand at the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm and to hold onto the condom. He strips it off and fucks his own fist, familiar feeling growing in his belly as he chases his own high.

Steve lays there, bent over the hood, as Jim comes on his back and his shirt and his ass. He takes it all without a complaint, moaning when Jim smears it into his skin and pulls his pants back up.

“Get off of my truck,” Jim orders with a pat to Steve’s ass. “Get home safely, don’t let me catch you speeding again.”

“I don’t know,” Steve shoots back. His hair is even messier than when Jim had pulled him over and his eyes are wide and brown when he looks at Jim. “This worked out pretty well, I thought.”

“Go home and keep your fool mouth shut.” Jim growls and points to the BMW.

“Yessir,” Steve winks, a guileless smile shifting into a smirk. Jim’s pleased that he’s walking a little bowlegged and reminds himself this encounter can’t happen again. It won’t happen again.

There’s definitely no way Jim Hopper would put himself on the midnight patrol just for a piece of ass.


End file.
